


It's Just Beer

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-11
Updated: 2007-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Ron gets drunk, and horny. Harry is left to deal with the consequences.





	It's Just Beer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:  
 **A/N** : This is for [](http://lena3.livejournal.com/profile)[**lena3**](http://lena3.livejournal.com/) who asked for Harry/Ron with the prompt _beer._  


* * *

“Oof!” Ron exclaims, landing in an disjointed heap at the bottom of the stairs. He climbs ungracefully to his feet, struggling to maintain his now upright position.

Harry laughs, while Ron continues to stumble up the remaining stairs to their flat.

“S’not funny, Harry.”

Harry snickers harder. “Yeah, mate, it is actually.”

“Don’t know why you can’t just help me up the bloody - fuck! Why do the stairs keep moving? God damn bloody fuck! Harry, make the stairs stop moving!”

Ron’s voice has taken on that slightly pathetic whine to it, and Harry decides to take a bit of pity on him. He climbs the few stairs separating them and places his arm around Ron’s back and adjusts Ron’s left arm around his shoulder for better balance.

Ron looks at Harry gratefully, blinking at his blurry outline.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, Ron.” Harry ducks his head, looking anywhere but at Ron’s face.

“You look like an angel, Harry. You know that?” Ron’s voice is beginning to come out more slurred with every sentence..

Harry pats Ron on the side. “Sure, Ron. Come on.” He tries unsuccessfully to drag Ron up the last few stairs, but Ron does not seem to want to budge.

“You’re glowing, Harry.”

Harry turns his head, raising his eyes to stare at up at Ron. “I knew it. I told you muggle beer wasn’t the same as butterbeer. You‘ve gone mental. We definitely need to get you to lie down.”

Ron obeys this time, slowly following Harry’s path towards the door, but Harry has the distinct feeling that Ron is still staring at the top of his head looking for a halo or a sign of angel wings.

Once inside the doorway Harry drags Ron towards the bedroom, easing out from underneath Ron’s grasp and leaving him swaying slightly on his feet. Ron stares at him a moment before tipping over sideways and landing on his bed fully dressed.

“I think the world is spinning, Harry.” He begins to laugh at the sound of his own voice.

Ron sounds extraordinary like a child right now and Harry can’t decide if he wants to stay with him laugh and listen to him talk, or thump him on the head for drinking too much and ruining their night out.

“Oh yeah, what’s it look like?” Harry asks as he begins to remove Ron’s shoes and socks.

Despite his own obvious inebriation, Ron launches right into some story about a dragon and a broom and something that sounds far too much like one of Seamus’ dirty jokes from last week. By the time Ron is done talking Harry has gotten him undressed and under the covers, and heard more sexual jokes about servicing Harry’s broom than Harry thought were possible.

“Come on, Harry. Aren’t you going to get in bed with me?” Ron’s voice has once again slipped into the slightly pathetic mode that Harry can never seem to resist.

“I’m not having sex with you while you’re this drunk. I told you before we left that if you drank too much of Seamus’ beer I wasn’t going to be responsible for you.”

“M’not drunk,” Ron says faithfully, smiling at Harry brightly.

Despite Harry’s previous protests he is undressing anyway, slipping between the sheets and laying down next to Ron. Ron seizes the opportunity greedily, immediately latching onto Harry’s collar bone with his mouth and throwing his left leg over Harry, using it as leverage to pull Harry flush against his own body.

“Ron,” he whispers, and even to his own ears Harry can’t decide if it’s more of a moan or an admonition.

“S’nice,” Ron says, licking Harry’s neck and rubbing his thumb in a circular movement beneath Harry’s navel.

“You’re drunk.” Harry says, as if it is some new revelation.

Harry can feel Ron nodding against his neck in agreement. “Maybe, just a bit, but you’re horny.” Ron reaches down, rubbing Harry’s obviously aroused member.

Harry groans appreciatively, arching into Ron’s strong touch.

“See, nice.” Ron says again.

Harry seems to be struggling with himself. “But, uh…I said…uh, no…god do that again.”

Ron smiles into the skin of Harry’s neck. He pauses to look at Harry, still not able to see him clearly but knowing that he could map Harry’s body with his tongue and hands blindfolded, not bothered in the least by his impaired vision. He continues to stare until Harry finally snaps.

“Fine! Yes, you’re drunk. Yes, we can have sex. Yes, I owe Seamus’ ten galleons because I couldn’t say no to you tonight. Will you fucking put your hand or your mouth or anything back on my cock now!”

It is clear that Harry’s patience has finally run out and his arousal has taken over. Ron chuckles, placing his hands around Harry’s cock and smearing the pre-come around the sensitive head with his thumb.

“And?” Ron questions, holding Harry between his hand firmly but not moving a muscle.

Harry throws his head back against the sheets, closing his eyes tightly. “You were right, you win the bet. You can hold muggle liquor.”

Ron seems inordinately pleased with himself. “Told you I could handle muggle beer just fine!”

Harry sucks in a deep breath, waiting for Ron to start to move again, except all he feels is a solid weight against his leg. “Ron?”

He gets no answer. Opening his eyes he lifts himself up, only to be confronted with the sight of Ron passed out; his mouth open and snoring just inches from Harry’s neglected cock.

“Fuck,” Harry curses, throwing himself back down on the bed. “God damn bloody muggle beer. Always knew it was no good.”


End file.
